


Only Him

by MooshMoosh



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America B-day fic!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 17:24:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooshMoosh/pseuds/MooshMoosh
Summary: It was high time that England stopped avoiding America on his birthday. And yet he also managed to avoid America while being in the same room as him.





	Only Him

Most nations knew that missing out on America’s birthday party was never ideal. For the following consequences were an overly hyper American following you around all day to make up for the lost attention at the party.

  
Unless of course you’re England. Then America is less then interested in seeking attention. England isn’t sure if he should be glad that the prick leaves him alone for his full birthday week. Yes, America does indeed dedicate the entire week to himself. But it’s always the one time of the year that England feels incredibly lonely. He always dismisses it as being childish on his part. There isn’t a substantial enough reason to warrant this gaping hole of loneliness, he thinks.

  
America always gave an invitation to him, England never went to the parties even still. Though England never thought of it as personal, more like out of obligation. It was proven in the following week of suffering in silence in his big, cold, lonely house. Of course there were the fairies to talk to, but they never really understood much about human emotion. The only thing they really helped with was to comfort and understand the situation at face value, but that was it.

  
No, because what England wanted more then anything was a friend. It’s not to say that’s he’s never had a friend. He has. None of them have ever been too long lasting, though. There was Japan, sure, but there’s not enough to talk to each other about anymore and it’d just feel all kinds of awkward.

  
England tilted his head up to look at the magnificent golden hues of the sky turning into night from his lavish window. He supposed the least he could do was show up and have something nice for the boy after years of avoidance. It was time to be a man and face his fears, he supposes. There were four days until America’s party. That was plenty of time to find something thoughtful to give.

  
The days passed and soon enough, gift in hand, he was entering America’s old fashioned estate. England shuffled nervously in the corner of the grand ballroom. It was luxuriously decorated in the colors of the American flag, because what other color combination would it be. England looked at the gift table. Each gift was bigger then the last, all wrapped in various colors of paper and designs.

  
He looked down at the gift in his hands that looked lame and small next to everybody else’s. He was too embarrassed to go over and put his gift down on the table, if someone were to see and make a mockery of him. It would ruin England’s next two to three years. England looked to the source of his predicament from across the room.   
  


America was surrounded by some of his nation friends amidst the sea of other nations, some of which aren't even friends with America. There was the Frog, Japan, the Italy brothers, and Cana-what’s his face. America, of course, was in the center of their little semi-circle. He was laughing and entertaining his friends, like a good host ought to. Not a single unhappy frown in sight. They were all supplied with small glasses of champagne and satisfied with the horderves it looked like they wanted to be there. America seemed to be telling a story, with some exaggerated hand motions and every now amd then his friends would laugh.

And England saw that America had turned out just fine without him.

  
Though, now England noticed the intensity of his stare when America suddenly looked at him with an innocently confused puppy face. England stiffened and mentally berated himself. His eyes darted across the room in order to avoid the gaze of America, who excused himself from the group and was currently making his way towards England.

  
England's eyes settled on the open door to the garden. He clutched his gift to his chest and made a run for it. He heard America’s startled call for him, but England paid it no mind.

  
England made it into the garden and at a supposedly decent ways away from the party to allow himself to slow down. This was proved wrong very quickly, however, as a very strong hand wrapped itself around England’s arm and turned him around.

  
England let out a squeak that he would deny until he died- which would probably be never mind you. It was America, he looked a little red in the face, and England couldn’t tell if it was due to anger or perhaps he’s had one too many drinks.

The party could still be heard from the garden despite the distance, the music on nearly full volume and the people inside being just as loud due to the constant flow of alcohol. But the silence between the two lone nations was almost unbearable. They both stared at each other, waiting to see who would speak first. England could feel every agonizing second that went by. England’s stomach churned and his heart hurt.

  
America finally said something, “hey, England. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  
England nodded and leaned away from America. “Right, so you just want your present don’t you?”

  
America looked shocked that he could even insinuate such a thing, “no, no, I wanted to talk to you. I don’t see you much around my birthday so...” he trailed off into silence.

  
England averted his eyes shoved his gift into America’s chest. “Well here’s your damned gift so you can go screw off now.”

“Hey, hey, I’m feeling attacked here, man.” America takes the gift, laughing softly. “So, how’s it going dude? I haven't seen you in, like, forever.”

England crossed his arms stiffly and occupied his eyes with a particularly interesting looking flower off to the side. “Well, you've been avoiding me first so I’m not surprised,” he said slowly.

“What? Where’d you get that from!” America defended. England narrowed his eyes. “Okay,” America admitted, “so I  _ was _ kinda sorta avoiding talking to you. But it’s not like you make it easy for me!”

“So you really don’t want me here do you!” England pushed America, causing him to stumble a bit.

“What! Now you’re just pulling shit out of your ass, you damn old man!” America waved his hands, thus the gift too, around in a frenzy.

England scoffed loudly, “I can’t believe you!”

“What the hell did I do! I’m so confused, what’s up with you?”

They glared heatedly until England huffed and walked around the other. America didn’t stop him as he passed.

England started the walk back to his hotel, it was a long walk and he didn't want to bother with a taxi, or an uber or whatever people use these days. The walk would be long enough with ample time about the nights events. The hotel wasn’t expensive, he didn’t have endless pockets, but it damn well wasn’t cheap. He scoffed at himself for his damn pride that wouldn’t allow himself to be spending the next two days hermitted in some run down motel.

If he concentrated hard enough England could see his breath in the chilled nighttime air. He was glad he kept his coat on.

* * *

While he always liked large gifts that may aid him, or are just overall awesome to look at, America thought. But just where in the hell would he put it all. Up his ass, maybe?

After seeing the last of his guests out the door, America turned and sighed in resignation at the mess he saw before him. He eventually worked up the courage to clean the ballroom after taking a shower and changing into pajamas. He swept the confetti and dust into one corner and covered any spill with paper towels.

The rest is future him’s problem.

He drags himself up and around his house to his room ready to fall into a coma. Just as he’s gotten comfortable he remembers the one thing he wanted to do. He groans an almost inhuman sound and rolls off the bed to the floor. He looks at the ceiling and recalls what happened to put him in such a bad mood.

It was England. Of course it was England, it was always England. He was the only one who could get America so frustrated and yet so happy at the same time.

The gift England had oh so elegantly gave him was small and when he shook the box whatever was inside gave a soft thud. He was unexpectedly excited to open it. America rose from his place on the floor and exited the room to go to his study a few doors down the hallway where he had placed the gift earlier in the evening, away from the other gifts.

He examined the paper wrapping, it was a pale blue color with silver stars that shone slightly in the light. The ribbon that tied the box together was red and white striped. He realized that the box really was themed with the American flag just in different parts. America carefully untied the ribbon and tore apart the wrapping paper gently. Now he had a brown cardboard box in his hands.

He opened the box and looked inside. He hesitated before taking the gift out of the box. It was a brown bear stuffed toy, it had a little bow decoration in the color blue. He turned the bear around in his hands and examined it. It was very soft and the fur was neat and trimmed to a tee. He squeezed the bears hind paws and the left one felt like it had something on the bottom. He looked at the paw, it had the initials embroidered on the paw in gold string, the lettering was flowing and undeniably familiar.

The initials read  _ A.K _

It was England. It was always England. America held the bear close to his chest and smiled. Only England could make him so frustrated and yet so happy.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my work in progress’ simce July 3rd of LAST YEAR. So im happy to have finally finished it!


End file.
